


[Repair 100]

by zombified_queer



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Kisses, Other, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, acts of service, all fluff no hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:55:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28796508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombified_queer/pseuds/zombified_queer
Summary: Yes Man's a Securitron, not a pack mule. Sometimes you gotta do some regular maintenance.
Relationships: Yes Man/Reader
Kudos: 11





	[Repair 100]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frogmanross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogmanross/gifts).



The pop makes you hit the dirt. Without thinking, you pull Elijah's LAER rifle out of your holster, looking down the sights. You expect Jackals or Fiends.

"Little help, pal?"

Looking over your shoulder, you find Yes Man looking as embarrassed as a bot can. He's even switched the face on his screen. Decidedly an improvement House can suck on.

You ask him what's up.

"Well, uh, I'm not so great at roaming the sands like you, boss." Yes Man taps his claws together. "Got a flat, you see, and if it's not too much trouble."

You stare at the flat tire. You did pass that car place. It can't be too hard to find a good tire and yank it off. How hard can changing Securitron tires be?

Explaining the plan, Yes Man brightens. "That's not too far. Boss, you're the best!"

You pat his metal chassis and assure him you like to take care of your best partner. Yes Man's screen flickers. You swear he takes on that blushing face for just a second.

As you two backtrack, Yes Man's flat makes a sort of sad dragging sound on the sand. While you walk, you study his wheel and how it attaches to the rest of his body. Hopefully the place has a car jack too. 

Inside, there's not much. A couple sheltered cars. Toolboxes with all sorts of wrenches and screwdrivers and hammers.

"Boss, you really are the best," Yes Man babbles. "Really, no one's ever put time into me. I'm capable of self-repair but to have concern? Wow."

You chuckle and find a table big enough for Yes Man to lay on. Patting it, you tell him to hop up so you can get to work. He does, screen in a perpetual grin.

Asking if it'll hurt, you're a little surprised when Yes Man answers, "Not at all, boss! It's like you taking off your boots."

But you tell him if he does get uncomfortable to tell you.

"Is that an order?" His screen flickers, switching to that question mark he does when he's unsure. "Because I can do it, boss."

You shrug. A half-order. More out of concern.

"Wow!" His screen grins at you. "I'm not used to being worried about, boss! Thank you."

Taking the guard off takes more work than you would've thought. Of course, Securitrons are built for urban peacekeeping and combat. They do have some armor.

You tease Yes Man to remind you to get him a tread when you get into town again. 

"Sure thing, boss!"

The tire comes off easy. It's in sad shape. The tread is worn down to nothing in some spots and the metal sticking out of the black rubber makes you hiss. If it was your leg, you'd be taking two stimpaks.

Rolling the tire off to the side, you get to work taking from one of the cars. A couple look pretty decent. Good tread for being hundreds of years old. A proper amount of air in them. Must be the garage.

Lifting the tire up, you're thrilled to find it fits. 

You turn every bolt back into place, replace the guard, and tell Yes Man to give it a test.

He gets off the metal table, taking it slow with the new tire. Then his screen flickers into a wider grin, one you've only seen a few times. 

"You're the best, boss! I could kiss you. I really could."

You grin, leaning against one of the cars. Yes Man rolls a figure eight, comfortable enough with the new tire. 

Before you get to work stocking up for him, you kiss his screen, static tickling your cheek. His screen flickers to that bashful little smile and he taps his claws together. 

“Um. Love you too, boss,” he says, voice crackling.


End file.
